Those one or two seconds are enough for her to let out a bitter sort of laugh - nothing well-mannered about the undead, ever - before she's drawn into a hug. The Doctor gives good hugs, she can honestly understand why people - why so many of her friends - think that he's all warmth and kindness.

She hugs back. Unapologetically.

"Thanks, I try," she says, although calling her safe in this place is a wild stretch. Are any of them ever? She shrugs that thought off just as she distances herself from the hug, which is at this point no longer needed - they talk business.

She looks from the market to the water, then back to the Doctor. "What do you have in mind for slowing them down, exactly?"